In the Dark of the Night
by sweet-destiny3
Summary: Godric's Hollow. What awaits them ahead doesn't matter tonight. The fear inside them will disappear when they're together. Ronione, Ginarry. Click above, story inside. Rated M just to be sure.


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In the Dark of the Night

The sorting hat had once said in dire times people shall join hand in hand to destroy evil. I had vaguely understood what that hat meant. I was an over-analyzer, but little had I analyzed that a hand in hand strategy would come literally into reality.

It was a raven night, the sky was colored to the core. No stars were apparent and the moon was not visible. The covers were tightened around my body, which seemed to be so vulnerable in a time like this. In the time of Voldemort. In a time of Harry Potter, a great warrior, by heart and body, and my dearest friend.

I was shivering. The goose bumps that formed on my skin were internally caused. The rain beating on the wooden, yet rickety window meant no never mind to me. Godric's Hollow felt severly uncomfortable. I presumed it was Harry's sanctuary. That was alright with me along with Ron. If it was Harry's sanctuary, then we would show respect, and so we had done.

The lightning streaked across the sky once more, followed my trembling thunder. The earth was trembling, aware of the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The sinking feeling the whole wizarding world probably had. But the three of us, we were at the core.

Knowing that a few inches from my room sat a tall red head, I listened to my sixth sense and shot out of bed at the sound of the thunder that crackled so loudly. My heart jumped to my throat as I scurried to the next room, paranoid of a shadow creeping behind me or something under my bed jumping at me.

I opened the door slowly to find Ron lying on his back, one hand behind his head, the other upon his stomach. He was in a white undershirt, unlike our Hogwarts uniforms, and I had to admit that it momentarily took my breath away. I was not going to ask when his chest had broadened so, for I had noticed every minute of it. He lifted his body up to answer the interruption and gave a light smile when he saw me. "Hello, Hermione," he said softly, his voice coming out in a whisper.

"Hello, Ron," I said, surprised at how soft my voice came out. We were together now. Why sixth year? Why? We could have been together for ages, the stupid git. Now, we might not have all the time in the world to be together.

"Couldn't sleep?" I whispered stupidly as he nodded. "What have you been thinking about?" I asked rather stupidly once more.

His eyes lingered on me for a few, very long seconds. I could see it when the lightening flashed against the window. I fidgeted slightly as my face went pink. Good thing the lights were off. "Things," he finally stated bluntly. I was not intended on extending the conversation.

He reached his hand forward to turn on the small lamp. "Don't," I said as my voice gave a small quiver. I silently cursed Harry for teaching Ron how to even use a lamp. He was obsessed now with the muggle artifact, completely forgetting his wand for light.

"Why the bloody hell not, Hermione?" he said, sounding more like the Ron I heard everyday. "I want to see you. I want to look at you."

"No, Ron. You can't possibly see me like this," I said as my eyebrows furrowed.

"Like what?" he said loudly.

"Shh, you'll wake Harry," I said as he reached for the lamp again. "No!" He stopped. "I don't want you to see me. I don't want you to see me…scared."

"Oh, 'Mione," he began as he removed the lamp from the nightstand and placed it on the floor. He lit a vanilla candle instead. It began to flicker upon the torn pale blue walls as I took notice to my appearance. My hair was more bushy than it usually was. My brown eyes were open wide and my lips were dry. I attempted to fix my hair but it wouldn't work. Contrary to my grungy appearance, Ron had his mouth open as his eyes brushed over my body once. He finally noticed how uncomfortable I felt under his scrutiny.

He completely turned his head to the side when I ran my tongue over my lips, they were so dry.

The bed was queen size, large enough for two. Harry had given him this bed because of Ron's height and he had wanted to sleep in his old room. Of course, he slept on the floor because the crib was not big enough. I had taken the guest bedroom where many pictures of Harry and his parents hung. Not very welcoming. Especially in the house where their death had happened.

The thunder exploded once more as I jumped and rushed towards Ron. But I stopped at the edge of the bed, unsure of what he might think exactly.

"I'm scared, Ron," I whispered shakily. "Of the thunder, I mean."

"Hermione," Ron said as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to sit on the bed. He made to sit like me as he turned to face me. My head was forward, for I knew he would see straight through me. "You don't have to be strong or brave like I know you always are. Not right now. Not with me," he whispered as he brushed a curly piece of my brown hair out of my eyes. He caressed the side of my cheek. I shivered now for a whole different reason. Ron was so tender when we were alone. I could feel the heat radiating from his face which reminded me of the boy I always knew. My best friend, my protector.

"What if the worst should happen? What then?" I asked as I shot up from the bed and crossed my arms over my chest. I leaned my body against the wall and looked away.

"I'll be there to protect you. I won't let anything happen to you," Ron said softly. It made my heart jump, but I knew we had to talk reality. "I burped slugs just for you, so you know damn well that it's true. I'd do anything."

"Oh, stop with the damn Gryffindor courage, would you!" I exclaimed in a harsh whisper. He looked taken aback at my sudden use of vulgar language. Oh, it was just the word damn! "We're talking about Voldemort," I said, looking to him with a sigh. He had not winced. He had not shuddered at Voldemort's name. He had really matured over our sixth year together at Hogwarts. We all have. "One of us, if not all of us, have a chance of dying. We dream of so many things," I said, not striking the usual Hermione tone that I used to bring hope. Although I had worried a lot about the both of them. What can I say, they are both morons. "We dream of life without war, without havoc. We dream together, Harry, you, and me. But what if a trio becomes a duo. What if a duo becomes a solo. What if a solo becomes a zero. What then?"

Ron's elbows were on his knees. His right fist was in his left hand, clenched tightly. His head was dropped and his shoulders were slumped over. "Hermione…" he began. He said my name with such sweetness. He said it with such fragileness. "What if I'm never able to touch you?" he asked very quietly, not looking up. My words had actually affected him. He was thinking now.

Here there was no time for our famous rows. I had to admit that even after we got together our rows continued. They had made for some very severe kissing, but tonight I could have sworn I had seen goose bumps form on Ron's skin.

"Of course you can touch me, I'm right here," I said plainly.

He had slowly gotten up from the seat on his bed and walked towards me. He had not seemed flustered like the first time we kissed in sixth year. But he was shaking. He was advancing towards me until he pinned his hands on either side of my head. His palms were pressed against the wall as his body was only a few inches from my face. I felt my face flush. I also felt the heat radiating from his own.

"That's not what I meant," he said so lightly as he brushed his finger across my cheek, down my neck and across my collarbone. Feather-light touches. I exhaled quickly. "Let us get married."

"No time for marriage," I began as I finally understood what Mrs. Weasley meant when she said people hurried into marriage and their dreams at times like this. But we had no time for that. I spoke my words truthfully.

"Then let me touch you," he said quietly as he raised my chin to his height and placed a soft kiss on my lips. He broke away to look down at my body briefly. Now had I realized how thin the material of my silk nightgown was. Now had I realized that it was spaghetti strapped. Now had I realized Ron was in a thin undershirt and boxers. Now had I realized the silk of my pajama matched the silk of the maroon comforter of the rather large bed.

He kissed me once more, this time capturing both lips hungrily yet sweetly as he slid his tongue into my mouth. It slid against my own and filled every inch. I knew his intentions were of some sort lately for every time we had kissed he held me close and ran his hands over my back and through my hair, savoring each moment like he was now.

He had become so charming, so seductive.

He broke away suddenly and retreated to my neck, exploring a different part of my skin other than my lips, but just as sweetly. I breathed heavily and clutched his strong upper arms firmly as I titled my head back so he had more access. He moaned in response as he made sure not to leave a centimeter of my neck untouched. His hands roamed my back and slid down my side to clutch my thigh and raised it around his own.

I leaned into him as my straps slipped off of my shoulders and Ron made sure to scour every inch of the gentle rise. "This wasn't my intention tonight," I managed to choke out.

He just moaned in response as he stopped and lingered on my skin for a few seconds. He finally raised his face to my own and his brilliant blue eyes were clouded over to match mine. Raw emotion. He looked so vulnerable but felt so strong. "I know, 'Mione," he began as he licked his lips and breathed heavily. "But I'm scared too," he said as my eyes seeped into his own. He was so truthful and cute. My heart leapt at his confession. "I need to be inside you," he said slowly. It was such a light whisper. "Then my fears will disappear." His breath sounded as if it were running out and his face spoke of great desire.

I felt something in my stomach. It was a carnal instinct. Such a strong one for this boy I called my protector and best friend. It seemed as if he needed just as much protection.

"Only if you feel the same way," he said as I blinked in reassurance. His voice was hesitant as if he had not known I wanted him just as much. Reluctantly he took the hint and lightly lifted the hem of my shirt up and ever so slowly lifted it above my head. He looked down at my bare chest with a predatory gaze. His hands caressed them lightly as he looked at me for permission. I nodded for him to continue.

He held one breast in the palm of his hand and squeezed gently as I let out a small moan. "So beautiful," he rasped huskily as he licked his lips repeatedly and kiss the rounded tops lightly.

I lifted his undershirt over his head and ran my hands all over his broad, freckled chest. I felt him shake just as much as I had. I slowly ran my hand through his hair and cupped his cheek before I explored his chest with my mouth.

"I'm scared to death, but until death do us part," I said as he lifted me on him and I wrapped my legs around his waist tightly. He exhaled sharply. He leaned his palm on the wall behind me to steady himself, the other hand was caressing the swell of my hips.

The night did not seem so dark now as he blew out the candle and we melted into the soft, silk sheets of the bed.

Down the hall. Another room, another story.

"I wasn't going to leave, Harry," she said to me as she closed the door and walked towards me. She was dressed in jeans and a maroon t-shirt, but she looked so beautiful. She leaned towards my body on the chair and kissed my cheek softly as she bent down on the floor. She placed her hand on my thigh as I slid off the couch and sat next to her on the floor.

I had a strong feeling she would come back. The girl would not take no for an answer.

We had talked all night. We had talked about life, about our dreams. We had talked about our Hogwarts career. We had talked about the Weasley's, my favorite family, and how Mrs. Weasley would adapt Hermione and I if we were not in love with two of her children. We had talked about many things. Neither one of us had said that we were scared. I could not have told her that I was scared. This was Ginny, and I was supposed to be her protector. I was supposed to be everybody's protector.

I held her in my arms and ran my hands through her silky red hair. "Ginny," I began, but she placed her fingers to my mouth. I could not help but feel so warm next to her. I tried not to think of many unholy thoughts running through my head at the moment.

"Don't say something heroic. Don't tell me to leave. I will _not_ leave you," Ginny began as she placed a soft kiss on my mouth. I got up and sat on the couch, face in my hands.

Why I had done it? I don't know. I had begun to cry. Me, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, Voldemort's greatest foe, was crying. In front of a girl no less.

But Ginny had not said anything. She had not laughed. She picked herself up and sat in my lap. Her knees were on either side of me. She lifted my face and placed a sound kiss on my lips. She was so beautiful. Something about her red rimmed eyes tonight had made her even more beautiful. She was tightly against me, she was cutting off my breathing, she was driving me mad.

"I can't, Ginny," I began. That would have been the last thing I wanted to say had we not been in a war. "This isn't proper. I mean, I--I--"

"We're in a war, Harry. You're the hero. There is no time for weddings," she began as we wrapped our arms around each other and held on tightly.

"If I start, then I never want to stop," I began, trying to make her understand. "Then I would want to stay here forever with you."

But I knew it was too late when her hand ran up the inside of my thigh. "I want you, Harry. This is where we find peace. This is our sanctuary. Don't let us dream. That's in our minds. Let us live our dreams."

I surrender. I surrendered. "You're my dream, Ginny."

I knew she would come back. I knew she was strong. I had to protect her. I had to protect Hermione and Ron too. I had to keep them all safe.

I inhaled sharply as I ran a hand inside her thin shirt.

I had to stay alive. I was not satisfied with just one kiss. I was not satisfied with just half a year with her. I wanted more.

I did not want to dream. I wanted to live the dream.

I know Ginny and Harry's scene is shorter, but I thought it had more affect that way. Anyways, I just love Hermione and Ron together so much!

Don't forget to review!


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